Black Heart
by soosha-q
Summary: Three years ago Sirius Black fell through the veil and there's no way back. At least that's what everyone keeps telling Harry.


Black Heart (or Love Will Find a Way)

by soosha-q

He had always expected everything to go black when he died, yet there was no black. Just gray; lots of gray. Grey mist. Grey shimmering specters locked in silent gray cries. Muted gray screams of disembodied voices. He was dead, of that he was certain. The only other thing he was certain of was the veil in the distance, battered and ordinary looking. He knew that the veil was how he came here in death and he knew that he wanted to get back; knew there was something important on the other side. But how was he to know what it was when he didn't even know who he was?

"NOOOO!" came a distant cry in a voice that he vaguely recognized. Something has stirred in his memory even as his floating body was stirred by a breeze. But he lost it, the memory. The veil was almost invisible now and he could feel that once he could no longer see it all of his former life would be gone for good.

"Don't leave me! I need you!" Again, the memory stirred. He struggled to find it as his body gently drifted backwards, not allowing his eyes to leave the veil.

"Sirius, noooo!" A memory sparked to life. He grabbed it and held on, using it to stop his journey to oblivion. A face. A beautiful face he knew so well with untidy black hair and piercing green eyes.

"Who…," he groaned.

"Sirius," the voice sobbed as if in reply. "You can't be dead, I need you Sirius." The voice broke off in a wave of sobs.

His heart wrenched. He couldn't bear to hear heartbreak in such a beautiful voice. He struggled to move forward, back toward the veil, but couldn't. Perhaps the memory of the face wasn't strong enough.

"I love you," whispered the voice between wet sobs.

"I'm coming, Harry," whispered Sirius as he stepped forward.

* * *

The war was over. Voldemort was dead. A lot of people were dead. Colin, who Harry wished he had given more of a chance instead of brushing him off so much. Dobby, the bravest house elf he had ever known who Harry had buried himself. Hedwig, his beloved owl who had been his constant companion and only escape from the Dursleys on those lonely summer nights. Fred, his best friends older brother who Harry has always admired. Remus and Tonks, who had finally been able to have a life of love together only to have that life cut short. But one death in the war had hurt Harry the most, had sliced through his heart as if it were made of nothing but water. Sirius. His godfather, the only man who ever truly understood the agony that fate could put a man through. 

Harry sat on the edge of his bed with a photo album in his lap. He flipped through the pages until he came to a picture of his parents wedding. Lily and James smiled as they stared lovingly into each others eyes. Sirius was next to them, an arm around James' shoulder and a twinkle in his eyes. Harry ran a finger down Sirius' cheek. He flipped the pages again until he found a picture taken at Grimmauld Place. Harry and Sirius sat at the kitchen table talking and laughing. Harry's throat tightened at the sight of the Sirius he remembered. A tear ran down his cheek. The Harry in the picture blushed as Sirius touched his hand. The real Harry hoped Ginny never looked through the album.

* * *

Sirius sat, exhausted. He had been struggling and struggling to reach the veil. There was no day in the place, no night, only eternal twilight and it was impossible to tell how long he'd been there. All he knew was that it felt like forever and that something was doing it's best to hold him back. 

First it had tried to cloud his mind. Again and again the memories of Harry and his former life with him kept slipping away and only the memories of the dementors were allowed to surface. But something inside of Sirius held on tight. The struggle was exhausting and at times it became impossible to keep moving forward and hold onto Harry too. So he sat down wherever he was and concentrated until he knew those emerald eyes would stay fixed in his mind. Then he would get up and move forward again.

This time it was trying to confuse him. Sirius had already started to slip again, not sure of where he was, where he was going, or even who he was. He had a vague notion that he needed to keep moving forward and fought to keep the memories within his grasp. He stopped and shut his eyes, reaching. When he found the familiar hand resting on the kitchen table, he grasped it and pulled the picture in. It was then that he looked up to find veils in every direction. Not sure which was the right one, he just stood there. He knew he couldn't move until he was sure because if he ventured even one step off the path then there might not be a return. So he stood. He stood and he fought to clear his mind. After awhile he realized that he was beginning to slip away again. He couldn't figure out which veil was real or why it was so important. It was as he fished for the reasons that one memory took hold and anchored him.

"I wont abandon you, Harry," he growled and began to walk again.

* * *

"Harry," Ginny whispered in his ear. "Harry dear, supper's ready." 

His eyes opened slowly. Harry realized that he had fallen asleep with the album in his hands. He closed it and set it on the nightstand before sitting up. Ginny took Harry by the hand and led him downstairs to the kitchen where they ate their supper in silence. Ginny kept glancing at him uncomfortably. Finally she ventured a bit of conversation.

"Hermione sent an owl asking if we'd like to have supper tomorrow night with her and Ron at their place." Harry stared at his peas not seeming to hear her. "I think it might be nice for us to go. You know, get out a bit." Still no answer. "Harry," she said a bit more forcefully then she meant to. He looked up. "Ron and Hermione are worried about you. We all are."

"Why?"

"Because," Ginny started, then paused. After a second she plunged on. "The war's been over for nearly a year. We've all lost people we love. Fred's dead. I might have died myself if Mum hadn't saved me. We've all had to mourn. We've all had to recover. It's time to move on."

Harry just stared at her. He knew that everyone has lost someone, but he'd lost more than anyone. His parents, Dumbledore, Lupin. And Sirius…

"Harry, we live in his house…"

"It's my house."

"It's not healthy, Harry."

"It's my house, he left it to me."

"We never even leave to go out, do a bit of shopping or see our friends or whatever."

"It's my house!" Harry shouted as he slammed his fist on the table.

"Harry," Ginny pleaded, "I know you never knew your parents, I know he was your godfather, I know you didn't have enough time to spend with him. I know you love him…"

"NO," he shouted, starting to stand. He hovered for a moment and then sat, trying to calm himself. _She doesn't know,_ he thought. _She could never know the depth of what I feel._ "I can't leave," he said quietly. "The house. There's a connection. A connection to him…I can feel it."

"Harry, he's dead."

"I know that. You think I don't know that?"

"There's no connection, Harry."

"There is. I can feel it. In my dreams."

Ginny stared at him for a second, not sure what to say. "In…in your dreams?"

"Yes. I can't explain it, but it's there. …He's trying to come back."

* * *

Sirius felt like he was waking from a dream. He had seen Harry asleep on his bed. Then he relived a day at Grimmauld Place. There was nothing special about the day. They had just been sitting, talking, and laughing like they had done on many of the days that Harry had been there. Harry's attention had flickered over to Kreacher who was skulking through the kitchen muttering something obscene about blood traitors and Sirius had quickly and gently laid his hand on Harry's to get his attention back. As Harry looked up Sirius saw something on his face that he probably wasn't supposed to see. That's when Harry saw Tonks snapping a photograph and quickly withdrew his hand and turned away to fiddle with a fork. 

This memory caused Sirius to realize he had been slipping away again. The red patches on Harry's cheeks had contrasted so boldly with his bright green eyes. Sirius remembered that very well, but the other details of the scene became blurry. Sirius fixed the young man's eyes in his mind, stood up, and began walking again. The veil looked much closer than it had on the other side of the chasm he had recently emerged from, weak and sweaty. The chasm had just appeared out of nowhere in front of him and Sirius had almost fallen in. After regaining his balance he sized up the situation. The chasm was a good half mile across and at least as much deep. He looked to the left and saw that a mere twenty or so paces would lead him to an earthen bridge that would carry him across. He looked right to find the same thing. Sirius had just began to take a step to the left when he stopped. His foot hovered in midair as he realized he was beginning to slip again. He put his foot back to find his mind intact. He tested a step to the right and again found his memories fading in mid-step. He tried a step forward. Harry's eyes stared at him across his mind's eye.

"Nothing for it," he murmured to himself and began to climb down the chasm in a straight line.

* * *

Harry sat in his favorite chair in front of the fire. On the table next to him was a glass abandoned hours ago and a photograph of two handsome teenaged boys who were laughing and kept trying to tackle each other. One of the boys had glasses and untidy hair. He was shorter and wiry. The taller boy had long dark hair and a jaunty smile. Harry stared at the picture as he drank from the bottle in his hand. He started and spilled some of the red liquid down his front when the door creaked open. 

"Harry," came a soft whisper.

"What do you want, Ginny?"

"I want you to put the fire whiskey down and come to bed."

"I think I'll just sleep here tonight. The fire's nice and warm."

Ginny sighed and lowered herself onto the bed behind Harry's chair. "Harry, you've spent more nights in here than with me since we moved in."

"So?"

"So we're supposed to be a couple. People who're in love and live together are supposed to sleep together."

"Not all the time. Lucy and Ricky didn't."

"Who?"

"Muggle stuff, never mind."

"Oh." Ginny stared into the fire for a moment before speaking again. "Harry, the point is we've only slept in the same bed twice since the war ended and we haven't made love at all. I've given you a lot of space because you've gone through a lot more than anyone, but at some point you have to move on and start living again."

"I am living."

"You're alive, but you're not living." She picked up the album that was lying open on the bed. "You spend all your time in your dead godfather's bedroom staring at old photographs."

Harry heard the sounds of Ginny turning a page in the album. He stood up quickly and moved to grab it from her, but he was too late. Ginny had cocked her head to one side and was looking intently at a photo. It was a picture from more than three years ago in the very kitchen they had eaten supper in a couple of hours before. The expression on her face turned from curiosity to shock.

"Oh my God," she whispered. "Of course. How could I be so blind?" She laughed a hollow sort of laugh. "We are in love," she continued incredulously. "I'm in love with you and you're in love with him." Ginny set the album down and walked to the door. As she stepped out she said stiffly, "He's dead, Harry."

* * *

The chasm was far behind Sirius now and the memories of Harry were holding strong. New memories kept popping up as he got nearer and nearer the veil. The time Harry had saved him from the dementors. The first time he saw Harry on a broomstick. He so amazing at quidditch. Way better than James had ever been. The time Sirius was heading up to bed and heard a noise coming from a usually vacant room. That was a memory he would cherish for all of eternity. 

At first he thought Kreacher must have been trying to smuggle more of Mother's things to his disturbing little shrine to his master. Sirius quietly opened the door, intending to give Kreacher a kick in the ass and a serious telling off, but instead of the house elf he found Harry sitting in the middle of the floor sobbing.

Sirius' heart ached as he sat next to Harry and held him tight. He knew he wouldn't let go until Harry was okay, but eventually his arms began to feel heavy. Just as they felt as if they might fall off Harry sat upright and looked him in the eyes.

"Thank you," he said softly.

"Don't worry about it," Sirius whispered as he gently wiped a tear from Harry's cheek with the back of his hand. "You want to talk about it?"

They sat there for hours. Harry told him all about his fears, that he was going crazy, that because of him Mrs. Weasley lived in constant fear for her family's safety, that Voldemort might someday finally finish what he started all those years ago. Sirius listened as he held Harry in his arms. He leaned his head against Harry's, which was resting on Sirius' left shoulder. With his right hand he gently stroked Harry's hair. Finally at three in morning Harry's eyes began to droop and Sirius insisted he go to bed. When they reached the door to the room Harry was sharing with Ron, godfather and godson hugged. The hug was close and tight and seemed to slow time itself down. Sirius bent his head down and gave Harry a small kiss on the crook of his neck. Harry reached up and returned the kiss. Then all too soon time had returned to normal. Harry went into his room and Sirius walked up to his. He slept very well that night.

* * *

Harry woke after noon the next day to find two empty bottles of fire whiskey next to him and a cold breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast on the kitchen table with a piece of parchment lying next to it. Ginny's usual tidy writing was a bit shaky as she explained that she had gone to her parents and wouldn't be back. She understood that you can't help who you fall in love with so she didn't hold anything against him. She hoped that someday when he was able to move on they could remain friends. She wasn't sure what she would tell Ron and Hermione, but don't worry, she'd think of something. 

Harry read the note through twice before conjuring up a fire to reheat his breakfast. The fact was he did love her. How could he not? Even though their relationship was over she still cared enough to make sure he had something to eat. Unfortunately, his love for a dead man was more than his love for a living, breathing, wonderful girl and now he was alone. He read the note again as he ate his toast and a piece of bacon, then he got up and paced the room. He had had a dream just before he woke up. A dream about Sirius. He tried to remember it, but they were all about Sirius so they were hard to sort out. The fire whiskey still fogged his mind, so Harry decided to go for a walk. It was important he remember the dream and maybe the fresh air would clear his head.

It was four blocks before the dream started coming back to him. Snape. It hadn't just been Sirius. It had been Sirius and Snape. Sirius was so close to the veil. So close that if he had had a rock he could hit it with a good hard throw. Sirius was practically running when something appeared that stopped him in his tracks. Snape.

"What do you think you're doing," Snape sneered.

"Out of my way, Snivellus," Sirius demanded.

"Not until you tell me what you're doing."

Sirius looked as if he was going to punch Severus in his long greasy nose. Instead he spoke through gritted teeth. "Out of my way, Harry needs me."

"Harry needs you or you need Harry?"

"What?"

Snape sneered again. "Do you really think I hadn't noticed? The way you always looked at him, God it was so pathetic. Everyone noticed, dog. Everyone knew you were in love with Potter and everyone knew Potter was disgusted with you.

At this Harry tried to yell, "NO! It's not true!" but instead he woke up.

Harry stood on the sidewalk, shaking. Snape _was_ dead. Was he there, behind the veil, tormenting Sirius? True, Snape had really been on the Order's side all those years but there was no denying the hatred between him and Sirius. He had been determined to make things as miserable as possible for Sirius when he had still been alive, was he now doing the same thing in death?

The world around Harry started to fade. At first he thought his emotions were the cause. Then he head Sirius' voice.

"No…it's not true. Get out of the way, Severus. I have to get to Harry."

"PATHETIC!" Snape shouted. "You are a pathetic old man in love with a pathetic boy…"

"HARRY IS NOT PATHETIC," Sirius screamed back.

"A pathetic boy," Snape continued, "who couldn't stand against the Dark Lord in the final battle."

The world returned to Harry in a snap. He realized what was going on. Whether it was really Snape or not, something wanted Sirius to give up. Harry didn't know exactly what he was going to do, but he knew he needed to do something and he knew there was only one place he could do it. With a quick spin on the spot Harry disapparated.

* * *

"Harry," He heard the familiar deep voice as he stood still to gain his bearings. "…are you okay?" 

"Kingsley!" Harry spared the Minister one quick glance before he turned and started to run.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"Department of Mysteries."

The elevator seemed to take ages longer than it had the last time he descended to the depths of the Ministry of Magic. Harry rocked anxiously on the spot he was standing in, one hand on the elevator door, ready to shove himself through once they opened. Finally the elevator dinged, the doors slid open, and Harry was off in a flash. He pounded down the corridors and through doors not daring to slow down. He practically flew past all of the most secret parts of the Ministry, not even caring about all of the strange wonders around him. He had one thing on his mind. He must reach the veil before it was too late.

Harry burst through the door to the veil room and stopped. The last time he had been in here Sirius had died. The love of his life had been stuck down by the man's own cousin. Harry hesitated for only a second before pushing the heart wrenching memory away and bounding to the veil. Then he stopped, standing directly in front of it.

_What do I do?_ he though to himself. Then allowed he yelled in frustration, "What do I do?"

"What was that?" Sirius' voice came as a whisper through the veil.

"Nothing," Snape answered. "Don't interrupt me! As I was saying, your pathetic little loverboy couldn't stand up to the Dark Lord. It's been three years since Bellatrix killed you, Sirius. Two years ago I killed your beloved hero Dumbledore," Sirius gasped and let a sob loose for the late headmaster. Snape continued with no regard for the man's grief. "and one year ago the Dark Lord stormed Hogwarts and Potter cowered at his feet. Then, with the Order watching helpless, the Dark Lord finally killed Harry Potter. The boy who lived lives no more." Sirius dropped to his knees a broken man.

* * *

Harry heard Sirius' wail; felt his love and his grief like a shock wave through the veil. Sirius' love consumed him and he finally knew what to do. He began to step up to the veil but a strong hand grasped his shoulder and pulled him back. 

"Harry, no," Kingsley whispered.

Harry tried to shrug him off, but Shacklebolt was too strong. "Kingsley, let go."

Kingsley spoke through pain that had spread from his heart to his face. "Harry, the past few years have been tough for everyone. We've all loved and lost and nothing can bring them back. And there's no use joining them."

Harry stared at Kingsley for a second and then burst out laughing. _No one understands!_

"Let go of me, Kingsley. I'm not going to join anyone. But you're wrong. I can bring someone back." Harry made a move to the veil but Kingsley held tight.

"Harry, if you touch that veil you're lost to us. No one can come back, not even you."

Harry laughed again. "Sorry Kingsley, but I'm the boy who lived, remember? Let go of me right now. I'm going to do this." Harry saw that Kingsley had no intention of letting go, so quick as he could Harry grabbed his wand out of his pocket, pointed it at his captor, and shouted, "EXPELLIARMUS!" Kingsley flew backwards and hit the floor hard, knocking him unconscious. In the silence that followed Harry heard sobs floating through the veil again. He walked back up to the archway and whispered, "Sirius, I'm here."

* * *

"Sirius, I'm here." 

Sirius heard the whisper. It was barely audible through the veil yet it seemed to fill all of time and space. He looked up in disbelief.

"Harry?"

"I'm here, Sirius, and I'm not leaving you. He's lying, Sirius. Voldemort didn't kill me. He tried. Again he tried and again he failed and this time we truly won. I killed him Sirius. We won."

"And you're alive?"

"I'm alive. …And I need you."

Sirius began to walk toward the veil, but Snape stopped him.

"You're pathetic," he sneered once again. "Do you really think you can conquer death?"

Sirius didn't answer. He didn't know the answer.

"No," Harry said. Sirius looked stunned and Snape grinned triumphantly.

"There, you see," he laughed. "Even the stupid boy knows it."

"Sirius may not be able to conquer death," Harry said softly. "I may not be able to conquer death, at least not again, but love…true love can conquer anything." Harry's hand slid into the veil. Snape had a look of anger on his face that mixed with disbelief to contort his features into something warped and sinister. He shot over to the veil and tried to push Harry's hand back. His hand passed right through Harry's.

Sirius smiled. He walked up to the veil and took Harry's hand. The last thing he saw as he slid through the veil was Snape's anger changing him into a demonic looking creature. And then he saw Harry.

"You've gotten taller," he said, and smiled.

"You've gotten alive," Harry said as he returned the smile. Kingsley awoke as they embraced and kissed. For a moment he was confused. Then, smiling to himself, he quietly got up and left the two locked in a long and passionate kiss.

"Let's go home," Harry said finally.

"My home or yours?"

"Our home."

* * *

Author's note: I tried so hard to get to sleep at 1:00 in the morning, but my brain just wouldn't let me. It flew around the room and buzzed until I finally got up and started writing my first ever fanfic. Through droopy eyes I wrote until my brain was satisfied that the story was finished and loosened the grip it had on me with it's tentacles. Please review, because I still have marks from the suction cups that held me firm for over two hours of writing and I'm worried that all was for naught! 


End file.
